


No Place Like Novis

by StarlightGale



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Backstory, Boeyfam is best fam, Celica is loved so much h, Don't question the GennyEst, Drama, F/F, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Mutual Pining, Novis Lore: The Fic, Overclass Lore, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Pregnancy, Slow Burn, Trauma, but no actual sex, lots of kisses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 07:15:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18006275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightGale/pseuds/StarlightGale
Summary: It's 403 V.C. and things are hectic for the youths of the Novis priory: Boey's family is expecting a new member soon, Genny reunites with someone she thought she might not see again, and Mae has been given the honor of leading the ceremony for the upcoming festival, a duty which she has accepted rather reluctantly. Things begin to get complicated, however, following the surprise arrival of Alm and Celica with their royal entourage: Terrors materialize en masse on the island again, several people are found dead, and there are sightings of a mysterious woman who bears striking resemblance to the island's legendary namesake. Coupled with the reasons for Alm and Celica's extended stay on the island, the rekindled relationship between Valentia's queen and her former retainers, and revelations regarding the island's past, and Novis can only brace itself for what will inevitably be a chaotic storm.





	No Place Like Novis

**Author's Note:**

> Finally uploading the start of my long awaited "Novis Lore" fic. I'm sorry if this first chapter dumps a little too much (I'm p sure I dropped three different plots outside what'll inevitably be the usual pairing nonsense). I promise things will pace out in subsequent chapters ;A;

_Long ago, in an era before the royal houses of Zofia and Rigel even existed, there was a nameless island floating among the reefs of the southeastern sea. The people spent their days living by the whims of the waves, respecting Mother Nature for how much she could give as much as she could take. On this island, there was a beautiful girl with hair as pink as the island’s daisy blooms and a bounce in her step that carried energy of the sun itself. Her family had been blessed with a gift for magic, and she had a younger brother that she cared for dearly and had promised to protect no matter what. In time, her name would become that of the island, and she would be remembered forever as the saint who sacrificed everything for the people she loved._

_Her name was Novis._

~*~*~

Monday, April 30th, year 403 of the Traditional Valentian Calendar

~*~*~

When most people think of a southern island, they think of hot sand beneath a bright midday sun, waves crashing against the shore, and a plethora of exotic fruits and animals that couldn’t be found anywhere else. Novis fit the bill for the most part, but visitors were always told to wait until nighttime before finalizing any opinions about the island. When asked why, they often replied with the same thing: the island didn’t show its true colors until after the sun set.

It wasn’t that moment just yet; sundown wouldn’t be for another hour, though the eastern sky had darkened considerably while much of the west had been painted over in yellow, with clouds catching the pinks that had yet to bleed beyond their halo around the sun. The sea had become a lapis lazuli, its surface reflecting the last golden glimmers of daytime, and the cool evening breeze made the island’s oak and cypress trees sway as colorful blooms began to close for the night. Most other places on mainland Valentia remained in the growing warmth of spring—for Novis, the end of April marked the beginning of summer and the island’s farmers were making a last check on the parsnips, cabbages, melons, and other spring crops they had already planted before calling it quits for the day. In the Greatport, shops closed and families with young children began to make their way home; others either meandered over to the tavern for drinks or just went where they pleased because they had nothing better to do. The only other town on the island was Mimi’s Village and while it was host to a small restaurant, there wasn’t exactly much to do there.

It was funny, in Mae’s opinion, because while everyone else complained that the village was boring beyond belief, she always had something to do when she went there on one of her free days. That day, she had gotten up at the crack of dawn to get washed and dressed, knowing damn well she’d be agonizing for over an hour over what to wear—the mornings when she had to be resigned to her usual robes were always easier when she didn’t have to pick something, and that was always the only problem. Just picking _something_ , never picking what she thought looked good. Once she had finally settled on a coral pink sundress and daisy-shaped hairpin, she had an early breakfast in the priory’s refectory, said a quick goodbye to the clerics already up, and jumped out the front door with boots on and her destination in mind. There was going to be a little party on the island’s northernmost beach that evening, and she had promised one of the people involved in the planning that she was going to help her with some of the food preparations.

That person’s name was Teela Dimitris. To Mae, she was the epitome of a badass woman who had successfully maintained her independence, even after marrying and having children. To her dear bicker friend Boey, she was just his mom and Mae had to wonder why Nomah told him last night that he needed him to change his plans and stay at the priory until later that afternoon. Poor guy barely had enough free time as it was, and she felt bad knowing he wasn’t going to have as much time to spend with his family as he originally thought. That included his father, Tom, and his little brothers, Orie and Beau.

“It is what it is,” Teela told her after a quick hug at the door. “Though that’s because Boey always prioritizes work before play. At least he got to sleep in, right?”

“He was _supposed_ to,” Mae said, bouncing across the threshold like a rabbit. “Nearly blasted my eardrums out when I went to check on him before I left, and he wasn’t even in the middle of getting dressed!”

“Didn’t Sister Henrietta and Brother Farley ban you from going anywhere near the men’s quarters?”

“…No.”

Teela shook her head sadly. “No wonder you and Orie get along so well. Now then, why don’t we get started on getting everything ready? We got fruits and veggies to chop, sweets to bake, and fish to clean and I refuse to let my growing waistline get in the way!”

“Oh, _now_ you’re speaking my language!”

The day spent in Mimi’s Village had been a fun one, even with all the work. From midmorning until dusk, hazy sunlight spilled through the windows of the thatch-roofed bungalow and the hut became filled with scent of cut greens and raw fish. Mae’s tasks were mostly menial ones, though she had the honor of baking the sweets herself since the oven, crude and made of stone, was outside and Teela had strict orders not to use the stairs leading down from the porch without assistance. She ran errands, picking up more vegetables and fish from neighbors and friends—an angler named Susie, Tom’s best friend and a lovable dumbass, tossed her a mesh bag of oysters and Cranky Richie, owner of the fruit orchard on the hill, gave her access to the first of his strawberry harvest.

“You know what the problem is?” Teela asked. All their preparations had been packed neatly into two large baskets, color coded with their covers so that the baked foods didn’t end up getting soaked with lettuce juice and herring oils; red for the breads and sweets, and blue for the greens and cut fish. The only thing left to do was for the older woman to throw on and secure her favorite cream-colored shawl.

“Spill,” Mae answered.

“Pregnancy _sucks_.”

“And you think I didn’t know that?”

Teela barked out a laugh. “Maybelle, trust me. They sugar-coat the whole experience of making new life out to be something sweet and romantic, but it’s not. Word of advice: if you know you want kids, try and hold off until you’re older than twenty-two. Orie was a smoother cruise than Boey, and I needed to be on bedrest during the last few weeks for that one.”

Mae grabbed one of the baskets off the counter and gave her a shrug. “Well, Boey _is_ a pain in the butt.”

“Hey, don’t talk about my son like that,” Teela wagged her finger. “That’s my job.”

“We can share the shift!”

Mila almighty, sometimes it was hard to believe that this woman and Boey were even _related_. Teela was snickering as she grabbed the remaining basket off the counter. “She really is Denes’ child,” she mumbled, opening the door and stepping outside. Mae furrowed her brow at the mention of that name and followed her into the fading light of evening.

Like the Greatport, Mimi’s Village sat on the edge of the sea and the Dimitris home, situated on the northern edge of town, was borderline licked by the waves that washed against the shore—hence, why it had been built on a raised platform, as was almost every other building in the village. The thatch roofs of the many bungalows blazed golden beneath the colors of twilight and the lanterns hanging from roofs and strings throughout the village looked like flickering fireflies from a distance. The village gently sloped upwards farther inland, sand gradually changing into dirt and grass, and at the midway point, there was a giant orange tree in what was considered the square, with the well being nothing more than a crystal-clear pond next to it.

“Mae, do you mind?”

“No problem!” Mae hummed with a snap of her fingers. The lantern hanging by the door sprung to life with a popping noise, as did the ones perched on the guardrail. It wasn’t anything to be proud of, but Mae beamed regardless.

Now came the annoying part—getting Teela down the stairs.

“We’re only two cubits off the ground, damn it,” she grumbled. She put her free hand on her swollen middle and rubbed it. “You’re not due until the first week of August and you’re already giving me grief.”

“Can’t you still get up and down them on your own just fine?” Mae asked with a frown.

“Yes, but Sister Henrietta nearly yapped my ear off last time she came over for a check-up,” Teela groaned. She suddenly looked ten years older and a lot more tired. “By the time she was done, I thought I was going to lose my mind.”

The girl pressed her lips in a thin line, then offered her free arm. Teela took it reluctantly. “Thanks, sweetie.”

It was a short trip down to the sand and would have been shorter if they didn’t have to take things one by one. Mae was expecting the older woman to be cursing under her breath about how she felt like a senile old lady and that having help was unnecessary, but she was very quiet.

“Much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. I’ve already collapsed twice—"

“WHAT?!”

The older woman flinched at Mae’s borderline shriek. They stepped on to the sand, but Mae didn’t let go of her.

“What do you mean _collapsed twice_?! Were both times recent, or were they at least a month apart? You didn’t eat anything bad beforehand, did you? Or did you just have the flu? Maybe the baby is actually some alien parasite that’s going to burst out of your chest—"

“ _Mae Gillyflower_!”

Mae let out a terrified squeak. She let go of her arm and stepped back, as if the woman had suddenly become a rabid animal trying to bite her head off. The anger painted on Teela’s face vanished as quickly as it came, and her shoulders slumped forward.

“Please just calm down. I’ve got enough on my plate already, and you screaming worse than _any_ of my sons hardly helps.”

“Sorry,” Mae swallowed the lump in her throat. “But it did come out of nowhere, and really casually.”

“Yeah, well, my attitude has always been ‘grin and bear it,’ and the only one who knows is Tom,” Teela fiddled with her ponytail. “There’s no denying this pregnancy is proving a tad more complicated than my first three. If bad stuff keeps happening, it’s actually likely I could…and possibly the baby, too…”

The waves rhythmically grasped at the shore only to slip away and leave behind bubbling seafoam. There were seagulls bobbing lazily on the water without a care in the world and a dolphin leapt through the air, silhouetted by the evening sky. Teela had a look on her face that reminded Mae of a certain someone, during times when she hadn’t been able to accept a reality that was unchangeable.

“Look, don’t worry about me, Maybelle. The only thing I want from you is to keep the issue between you, me, and Tom. If anything goes wrong, it’s a _might_ rather than a _certainty_ and I don’t any one of my sons freaking out just because I have a snapper-sized chance of—"

“Mae! Missus Teela!”

Both women turned their heads to look down the beach. The girl running up to them was practically a shrimp in size, though she was overall better compared to an _adorable lamb_ , with peach pink curls framing her face and nearly hiding her soft brown eyes. Mae’s lips curved at the corners and she broke out into a toothy grin.

“Yo, Genny! What in the world are you doin’ here!?”

Genny slowed down, stumbled, and stopped in front of her and Teela, leaning forward to support herself on her knees as she panted.

“T-the barbeque is a-about to start at Angel Shore. W-we’re still waiting on some p-people, but everyone from the p-priory who was invited is there, R-Rigelian clerics included.” She sounded like a wheezing, dying mouse. “They…they asked me to come check if you were ready.”

Teela breathed out, as if she had been holding in a breath for a long time, and she put on her most endearing smile. “Welp, serious discussions averted for now. And if the party is about to start, then we’ve gotta hurry!”

“Hell yeah!” Mae whooped.

Genny blinked. “Serious discussions? Huh?”

~*~*~

_Novis, her family, and the island lived in peace and serenity for a long time, oblivious to any of the chaos that the world suffered from. She and her little brother, Tove, spent their days helping their parents with fishing and gathering fruit—at night before bed, they got a chance to practice weaving spells and harnessing their magic. It seemed as if their carefree lives would go on forever._

_Then, a group of pirates who called themselves the Berber appeared, and Novis’ beloved home became a living hell._

~*~*~

It had gotten to a point where having a light source was a requirement rather than a friendly suggestion. Thankfully, the five campfires on the beach provided more than enough light for everyone who had gathered there—anglers, shipbuilders, shop owners, stay-at-home parents with children, prospective merchants, scholars, artists, and visiting clergy from across the sea. Some sat on the logs that had been dragged out and set around the fire pits in crooked circles while others stood, chatting, laughing, and even dancing, all while the scent of cooking fish and boiling vegetables wafted into the air.

Mae had situated herself on a log near the largest and brightest fire pit, with Genny right next to her and chewing at a slice of bread with a slice of cheese on top. Adjacent to them was a Rigelian cleric—Saint Tatiana, they called her, with hair the color of the daytime sea, an adorably round face, and a slice of pumpernickel bread with orange jelly in her hands.

“See, the one time it snowed here before the war…” Mae said, shoving yet another honey-coated cookie into her mouth. “The plants on this island shrivel up and die if it gets any colder than what we usually get during our winters. So, when we woke up in the middle of the night because the temperature suddenly dropped and there were flurries blowing in, every mage and cleric at the priory was scrambling around casting heat blessings so they could save at least _some_ of the winter crops. The harbor seals were having a ball, though.”

Tatiana nodded in understanding. “You guys are still one hundred percent serious when you say the entire island will shun you if you kill a seal.”

“If we’re talking everyone who was around when Tom and Teela were teenagers, then yes. Most of the kids find it ridiculous these days.”

Tatiana stopped chewing and stared unhappily at her slice of bread. “It’s weird and yet it makes perfect sense because seals are _cute_ , weird superstitions or no.”

Mae leaned to the side and whispered in Genny’s ear. “And I thought for one second we were on the same wavelength because she’s, like, Atlas-aged.”

“Mae, please don’t whisper things about people who can _clearly_ hear you.”

Oh, look who _finally_ decided to show up. Boey, in clumsy flutter of green and brown robes, plopped down on the spot next to the pink-haired mage and let out an exhausted groan. “If I’m dead in my bed tomorrow, blame my brothers.”

“Oh goodness gracious, let me…uh…” Tatiana stammered, looking around wildly. “Where’s my staff? Or some vulnerary? Or an elixir…!”

There was an audible growling noise and it most certainly did _not_ come from Mae or Genny.

“Tatiana, I think Boey just needs some food,” the curly-haired cleric said softly.

“Right!” Tatiana stuffed the remainder of her bread in her mouth, picked up the skirts of her habit, and jogged over to the mat where all the fish cuts were.

“She’s a good woman,” Mae declared, waiting until she had disappeared behind one of the fishermen. “And that Ezekiel dude had better be treating her well.”

“I didn’t get to talk to him much while we were still at Zofia Castle, but he seemed nice,” Genny clasped her hands together and cooed. “I hope he gets back soon. His visage was the inspiration for Lord Olberic in my novel.”

“Genny, if you hadn’t done that the first time you met my parents, I’d say you were swooning.” Boey glanced at Mae. She rolled her eyes and tapped her shoulder, and he put his head on it with a pathetic, puppy-like whine.

“I’m not!” Genny’s cheeks turned bright red and she waved her hand. “I mean he’s undeniably _pleasing_ to look at, but it’s only because of aesthetics for me. Besides, if there’s anyone I’d genuinely swoon over, it’s…err…not someone…”

“Are you talking about my Zeke?”

Tatiana was back, and she held a stick with several fish and vegetable slices skewered on to it. Boey took it gingerly out of her hand when she offered it

“U-uh, well, yes,” Boey smiled. “Just that we hope he’s doing well and not causing too much trouble.”

“Zeke wouldn’t cause anyone trouble,” Tatiana huffed, a hand falling to her hip. “He’s kind and sweet and…” her jaw clamped shut and she sat back down on her log. She did that a lot whenever the topic of General Ezekiel popped up.

“S-Sister Tatiana, we’re…” Boey coughed and elbowed Mae in the ribs. He didn’t need to give her any signal seeing as the guilt had already hit her like a _runaway cart._

“We’re sorry! I was the one who brought him up!”

Tatiana shook her head. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. More importantly, isn’t there something you wanted to ask Boey?”

“Oh yeah,” Mae hummed. She poked him in the shoulder. “Oi, big guy getting bigger.”

“Hmm?” Boey was chewing a carrot he had plucked off his skewer. “If this is about this morning—"

“Uh, no? I’m just wondering why Nomah wanted you to hang around the priory today, at least until later in the afternoon. You were looking forward to this home visit for weeks!”

“There were a couple things,” Boey replied wearily. “Something he needed to tell me about festival next month, and there was also a bit of a problem at the graveyard.”

“Ah, so that was the scream I heard at around lunchtime.”

“Your expression of worry is most appreciated.”

Something about what Boey said was bugging her. It wasn’t the part about the graveyard, but the bit about Nomah needing to tell him something, which if it had been after she left, it was probably something he hadn’t wanted her to hear.

“Hey, what was it that—”

A loud clapping noise interrupted her midsentence.

~*~*~

_The Berber, with their larger numbers and superior weaponry, took the island for their own and enslaved the entire population. Using the blood, sweat, and tears of their new workers, their power over the seas expanded, and they became a threat to both Valentia and faraway Archanea._

_Novis would not stand for it, and her resolve only strengthened when a plague swept through the island. While the Berber were able to treat their own with the medicine they had amassed, hundreds of islanders perished because of the disease and Novis and her brother were left orphaned._

_Desperate to protect her only remaining family and with only so many options, Novis wrote a message in a bottle and threw it into the sea, praying that the currents would carry it to someone, anyone, who could help her people. It was a flimsy hope, but it was all she had._

~*~*~

In the eastern sky, a very thin sliver of light had appeared on the horizon alongside countless twinkling stars; in the west, the sun had just about set and taken the remaining reds of evening with it. Tiny crabs crawled across the sand seeking their next meal, only to skitter away and rebury themselves when they found that they were about to be squished by a boot or shoe. Invisible in the air were fruit bats and crickets chirped a symphony in the island’s trees.

“So, uh, for starters, I hope everyone is enjoying themselves,” Tom said with a sheepish smile. “And I just wanna say that I’m glad everyone here could make it.”

Maybe Boey wasn’t nearly as tall as his father, but the resemblance was uncanny between his muscular build, their near-identical noses, and the way their hair formed what Genny always described as _feathery spikes_. Behind him, a boy who couldn’t have been older than nine tugged at his trouser leg, and Tom mussed his fluffy black hair into an even bigger mess than it already had been.

“Teela, Brother Dylan, and Mr. Clam will have some grilled salmon and oyster stew ready in a few minutes,” he continued. “So just sit tight for a little while longer if you want some.”

“You were supposed to refer to me as ‘my beautiful wife,’ Tom!”

“Love you too, babe!”

Boey pinched the bridge of his nose. “If anyone asks, I don’t know them.”

“And for anyone who’s wondering, my fellow fishing enthusiast and Rower, Jerry, isn’t here because he made me cry last week, so yeah. That’s something.”

Tatiana looked at Mae quizzically. The girl shrugged. “Jerry’s an ass and Teela is overprotective.”

“Ah.”

“Now then,” Tom clapped his hands together again. “I _could_ go into a meaningful talk about how, like the festival Novis is having next month, this is the first time since year 400 I was able to hold this little get-together. Problem is that we’re seconds from the moon coming up and if you’re a non-local and weren’t here before October last year, I _highly_ advise you to turn your attention to the water.”

There was a mixture of curious murmuring and excited whispers.

“What is he talking about?”

“Crap, I forgot tonight was a full moon! Perfect timing!”

“Full moon? What’s so special about the moon being full tonight?”

Mae bounced up and Boey fell over with a loud _oof!_ “Sweet jumping jesters, you need to see this, Tatiana!” She grabbed Tatiana by the wrist and pulled the saint across the sand.

“Mae, careful!” she yelped.

The waves were barely visible in the darkness and Mae, in her blind haste, almost dragged them both into the water. The last sliver of the sun was swallowed by the horizon and the world became little more than a sea of twisting shadows with stars flickering above. Others joined them at the water’s edge; some were nearly bouncing where they stood while others appeared skeptical. It seemed as if the entire world was holding its breath, waiting for whatever it was that was supposed to happen to finally happen.

The moon crept out after its daytime slumber, its pale glow spreading over the water, and in the span of a single instant, the waves turned to _stardust._

The glow came in neon blues, greens, and pinks, the lights appearing and disappearing with every roll and splash of the sea. They didn’t appear as a single mass and yet the countless little beads of light seemed to move as one, following the flow of the current. A woman squeaked—when she had stepped on some of the wet sand nearest to the water, the ground beneath her feet had lit up for a few seconds.

Mae looked at Tatiana and almost burst out laughing. Her jaw was open slightly, eyes as wide as dinner plates, and the way her fingers were poised suggested she wanted to touch the water to see what’d happen.

“Goodness gracious,” she murmured. “We have something similar, but it’s an underground spring in the mountains…”

“Then you should know it’s safe to touch,” Mae said cheerily. “Go on! Do it!”

And as if to give her a little encouragement, she splashed at the water with the toe of her boot and sent a spray of swirling pink and blue into the air.

Tatiana hesitated for a moment longer, then carefully toed off her slippers. She gathered the skirts of her habit in her hands, then touched the water rolling in with the next wave using her big toe.

Glowing green bloomed and spread, mixed with pulsing pink, and vanished. Tatiana did it again and again, with little splashes eventually mixed in, and she began to giggle.

“I’m going to guess that I’m only seeing this now because the weather has warmed up?”

“Eyup.” Mae was down on her knee and untying the laces of her boots. “Remember, we don’t have a long winter or get snow, but it does get cold and rainy and whatever little fella causes this doesn’t like cold.”

“Little fella?” Tatiana asked.

“It’s some kind of plankton?” Mae threw her boots and socks carelessly behind her and trotted into the glowing water. “Too tiny to see without a magnifying glass, which is why all we see is the glow made by it and its trillions of friends.” She shuddered. “Crap, I sounded like Tom for a second there.”

“Aww, don’t be embarrassed. It’s cute!”

“Yeah, but I’m not a fish nerd!”

“What’s wrong with being a fish nerd?”

Tatiana took a step into the sparkling lights and seafoam. The water was lukewarm, and a clump of seaweed became caught around her ankle for a moment before it slipped away, leaving a faint cloud of blue.

“Hey, Mae?”

“Yeah?”

“If you ever decide to come up to the plains, let’s go see that spring.”

~*~*~

_Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was just dumb luck. Early one morning, Novis went out to the beach to pray, like she always did before she had to work, and she saw a trio of Pegasus Knights approaching. On two of them, their rider was accompanied by another—one was a young man with jasper eyes as fierce as a lion and the other was a woman whose pale visage made Novis think of an angel._

_Rigel and Zofia, Duma and Mila’s champions, had received her message._

~*~*~

Nomah would not deny that he should have been having fun with everyone else. Even with Novis’ long summer, the Ocean Nebula event didn’t come every night and it would be another twenty-seven days before it happened again. At the same time, he had a boatload of letters and documents to go through and, admittedly, he was procrastinating on a little something he had to do sooner rather than later, lest the island’s council give him an earful for it.

“I thought Sister Henrietta told you to leave all your work at the priory.”

Nomah stifled a laugh. “And I thought I said you could do whatever wanted now that your work is done for the day.”

Boey let out a very Boey-like sigh and offered one of the two piping hot bowls of stew in his hands. “At least eat. I’ve learned the hard way _many_ times what happens when you skip meals.”

“And if you were only just chomping on a fish kabob, I imagine you were starving.” Nomah set his papers to the side and took it, only then noticing little Beau with his arms wrapped around Boey’s waist.

“Oh, what’s wrong, little one?” he asked gently. “Weren’t you and Orie were giving your brother unending grief for not coming when he said he would?”

Beau didn’t say anything—he simply stared at him with his big doe-like eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Why is he your teacher again?” Beau suddenly asked.

“Beau, please!” Boey hissed. When he moved to sit down, the younger boy didn’t let go and plopped next to him on Nomah’s log. Nomah used a bit of levitating magic to make his bowl float so he could keep looking through his letters, and the expression Boey made pretty much said ‘ _stop working and eat, you ancient buffoon_.’

“Aren’t you going to ask me what’s _so_ important that I had to bring it to the beach?” Nomah spooned a little stew into his mouth, realized too late how hot it was, and coughed.

“It’s the same as always, isn’t it?” Boey shrugged. “Halcyon alerting you which of Duma’s faith will be coming to the island next, Irma doing the same with Mila’s, Mycen keeping you updated with everything at Zofia Castle, and countless other letters from across the continent.”

With that, he took a spoonful of his own stew. Unlike Nomah, he made sure to blow on it before putting it anywhere near his mouth.

“Indeed, and not all of it is good news,” Nomah replied. “When you see how things are on Novis alone, it looks like my little _proposal_ has gained a lot of traction, all the Rigelians running around and whatnot, but these are just the handful of faithful who were receptive to the idea. When you look at many of the other letters I’ve gotten…”

“Boey said you’ve gotten no less than two dozen death threats.”

“Beau!”

The little boy turned his head away as if he had said nothing.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Nomah chortled. He finally cooled off a spoonful of stew properly before downing it. “Mmm, that mix of spices is Mr. Clam’s handiwork.”

“Do you even think it was a good idea for the kingdoms to merge?”

Nomah glanced at Boey. He was staring at the lump of carrot in his next spoonful like he was checking for poison.

“I get the rationale and yes, there’s a lot of potential, but I see it as a recipe for _disaster_. Two very different kingdoms, ruined by the sins of those who had previously ruled them, coming together just because two teenagers, who _happened_ to be the surviving heirs of both countries, killed a god? The letters from Chancellor Mycen alone speak for themselves.”

“All the more reason to work together. Valentia cannot heal if the people continue to fight, and someone needs to show the continent that both halves can work together. Who better than the faiths of Mila and Duma, the gods who divided the continent because they couldn’t look past their differences?”

“You’re mad.”

“Perhaps. That, or I haven’t shaken off some of the naïve ideals that I had when I was your age.”

Boey pursed his lips. “Didn’t you have something you needed to give Mae?”

“Little one, please don’t change the subject.”

“ _Give it to her_ ,” Beau said. “Whatever it is.”

Nomah stared at him. Beau stared back. Somehow, the lack of expression on his face made his gaze that much more terrifying.

“I’m being threatened by a nine-year-old,” he threw his arms up in defeat, plucked his bowl of stew from the air and shoved it into Beau’s waiting hands, and shuffled off to the water’s edge grumbling. The smug grins donned by both brothers said everything.

Tatiana gave Nomah a wave—she had stopped frolicking for the moment and seemed to be chatting with Genny about her novel draft. Mae was still out in the waves, knee-deep in seawater and watching the multicolored stars as they rose and fell, appeared and disappeared. Nomah cleared his throat and called out to her.

“Mae? Little one?”

Mae twirled around—when she saw him, her eyes lit up. “Gramps! I haven’t seen you all day! How’s the weather?”

“As fine as you can get when age is catching up to you,” Nomah chuckled. “Do you need a towel?”

“Naw, I’m fine. Water is the perfect temperature,” Mae replied. “We got _really_ damn lucky this year, right? I think this is the first time Tom’s barbeque ended up on a full moon. Makes me wonder if anything will happen when the twentieth rolls around!”

She kicked at the water, and a swirl of blue, green, and pink flew in the air. Nomah smiled, weakly.

“Little one?”

“Hm?”

Nomah slid his fingers into his robes. He reached into a hidden pocket, sewn near his heart, and drew out a little instrument. It had been molded to look like a dolphin and though the sky-blue ceramic had countless chips and scratches, everything else looked fine—the mouthpiece was cleverly disguised as the dorsal fin, a brown cord ran through the tail so it could hang from one’s neck, and there were twelve holes total, ten in the front and an additional two in the back. Nomah held the instrument out to Mae, motioning for her to accept it.

“Well?”

She looked at it, then looked up at Nomah. “Uh, grandpa? Why are you giving me Saint Novis’ ocarina? Or the replica.”

“Why does everyone always suggest it’s not the original?” Nomah grumbled, offering it again. “Take it.”

Mae still didn’t take it. She was blank faced, smiling but with no emotion behind it. It was almost as creepy as Beau’s stare, really. Nomah huffed indignantly.

“Little one, I love you like a grandfather would love his own granddaughter by blood, but the fact you’re seemingly not adding two and two together is ridiculous.”

“I have added two and two together. And I’m asking why _me_.”

The elderly priest and the young mage stared at each other until there was a distinct wobble in Mae’s lower lip. She turned away and her eyes fell on the pulsing waves.

“Nomah, when it comes to selecting the ‘Spirit of Novis’ for the festival every year, we have a raffle—"

“And this year, we won’t be having one. The island council made _sure_ to check with the rest of the population if it was okay that we specifically picked you, and almost everyone we asked said yes.”

Mae made an irritated noise, like she was groaning. “If this is just because my mother did it when she was my age, then that’s a bull reason and you know it.”

“If you think that’s why we picked you, then you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Then why did you pick me, huh?!”

“The people of Novis need hope.”

Mae didn’t say anything. Nomah took a deep breath.

“Mae, in the years before the war, Novis was _very_ isolated from the rest of the Valentia—hence, why it was the perfect place for Celica to hide. It also meant that we were completely oblivious to what was happening on the mainland and that pirate problem did not help matters whatsoever.”

Though he acted as if he wasn’t aware, he knew that Tatiana and Genny were listening in from the sand.

“And now, the island gets a constant stream of information and much of it isn’t good. We may have narrowly avoided starving to death ourselves, but there’s constant talk of small rebellions breaking out, places where terrors still spawn, and brigands taking advantage of the post-war chaos to loot and plunder wherever they please. This is the first time in three years we’ve been able to hold the Novis Festival and the people are still tired and scared. They need someone to raise their spirits.”

Mae shifted slightly and craned her neck—she had a pout on her face. “And I’m the right girl for the job?”

“The fact that you’re acting like you’re not is _baffling_ , if I’ll be quite frank,” Nomah frowned. “Because what have you done? Defeated the pirates that were starving our island of food and resources, freed countless innocents that were enslaved by Grieth’s criminal empire, exorcised an untold number of Terrors, and helped in putting the suffering gods to rest so that mankind could finally stand on its own.

“Except all of that was Celica.”

“And she wouldn’t have been able to do it without you,” Nomah said firmly. “Maybe you don’t see yourself as anything more than a mage doing her job, but the rest of Novis sees you, Boey, and Genny as heroes. And who better to help welcome back a much-beloved tradition than the reason many of us are alive to begin with?”

He held out the little dolphin-shaped ocarina to her again. “The only thing we’re asking you to be our little _bundle of energy_ and show Novis that things will get better, both for the island and Valentia. Can you do that much?”

Mae faced the waves for a moment longer before she turned to the priest. Slowly, carefully, she took the little instrument from his old wrinkled hands, as if it would shatter with the slightest touch.

“I’m gonna need to practice so I don’t sound like I’m tooting a _dying seagull_ ,” she deadpanned.

“You’ve got almost three weeks,” Nomah mussed her pigtails. “Now, come. Knowing Tom, he’s probably waiting for everyone to come back to the fire so he can tell his favorite story.”

Nomah walked by Tatiana and Genny first, whistling, and Mae followed with the ocarina cradled in her hands. She stopped in front of the two, turned, and scowled.

“How long have you known?”

“Since this morning,” Tatiana shrugged

“And did he tell you before or after I left?”

“After. He told everyone, essentially,” Genny nervously laughed. “Guess he didn’t wanna ruin your day. Or something like that.”

“I almost wish this was another one of his jokes,” Mae mumbled. Tatiana sighed, and she and Genny followed her back to the largest campfire. Every had gathered again, some with food and drinks, and others with the glow of the sea on their skin and clothes.

“On one hand, I enjoy getting my friends and family on the beach for the sake of food and good-natured fun,” Tom said. A thirteen-year-old boy, hair as white as his older brother, leaned on his back and had his arms around his neck. Beau sat on his lap chewing a cookie, and Teela and Boey flanked him on either side. “On the other hand, there’s a festival next month and my pops always told me the story of our island on the 30th of April every year, just to remind me about why we have it in the first place.”

Teela snuggled against him like he was an oversized teddy bear and Tom pulled Boey into a one-armed hug. A cleric tapped Tatiana’s shoulder and whispered something to her, and she raised her eyebrow curiously. Mae and Genny sat beside each other and Mae looped the ocarina’s cord over her head so that it dangled just below her collarbone.

“Funny thing is that even though a small bit of important Valentian history happened on our shores, we don’t make as big a deal about it as we should. Our island was where the largest battles against the pirate nation took place and if those battles hadn’t happened, Zofia and Rigel wouldn’t have existed. And as for Novis? We wouldn’t have gotten our name.”

Tom tilted his head up towards the sky, as if to give a silent prayer.

“Zofia and Rigel were named for their first rulers; the champions who made blood pacts with the divine dragons, all in the name of defeating the growing pirate threat. Saint Novis didn’t make the same pact. She was about as normal a girl as you could get, with an adorable redhead for a brother and a bloodline touched with magic. Yet after she became the first queen of her kingdom, Zofia I declared the island be named in her honor because without her sacrifice, she wouldn’t be alive to guide the southern half of Valentia towards a new future.”

The flames cracked and cackled. Somewhere in the distance, there was an ominous scream that no one heard, and ocean continued to pulse with its beautiful colored stars beneath the glowing full moon.

“So, in honor of Saint Novis and her festival, held on the third Sunday of every May, allow me to tell everyone a story…”

~*~*~

_Zofia and Rigel disguised themselves among the island’s captive population, and spent a month observing the cruelty of the Berber…and looking for weaknesses in their defenses. Novis could offer little to show her thanks beyond playing songs on her mother’s ocarina, but it was more than enough for them. Zofia seemed to have taken to the girl and Tove had become almost as much her younger brother as Novis’._

_At dawn, on the day Zofia and Rigel returned to the mainland, Novis, Tove, a small cleric, and a middle-aged swordsman swore allegiance to Lady Zofia. They promised they would return in within a fortnight, when they would finally set their plan in motion to defeat the Berber and free the island, as requested by the gods themselves…and their new friend._

**Author's Note:**

> Mystic: My version of Novis was Mila's dragon GF and their relationship did not exactly end well  
> Me: My version of Novis was one of Queen Zofia's GFs and she [SPOILERS]  
> Mystic:  
> Me: Same hat  
> Mystic: Same hat


End file.
